


Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

by purple_cube



Category: Hunger Games Trilogy - Suzanne Collins
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-07
Updated: 2014-07-07
Packaged: 2018-02-07 22:01:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1915416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purple_cube/pseuds/purple_cube
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A delayed transatlantic flight turns out to be a less miserable experience that Katniss had expected it to be.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sitting, Waiting, Wishing

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a request on Tumblr for Everlark and the line "this isn't exactly what I had in mind".

 

  

As yet another round of frustrated arguing begins at the help desk, Katniss tries to look on the bright side. She thinks that she should at least be grateful that this happened on the return leg of the journey rather than prior to her arrival. And she had managed to enjoy her precious few hours of free time exploring London. She certainly took plenty of photos, enough to satisfy Prim’s curiosity. Her sister had been more excited about her first business trip to Europe than Katniss had been herself, and she had promised to find the time to enjoy herself whenever she hadn’t been needed at Head Office.

 

But now, entering her third hour sat in the same unforgiving plastic seat at the airport, she has to admit that she wants nothing more than to slide under the covers of her own bed and drift away to the sounds of the busy Queens traffic outside her window.

 

Her neighbor stirs for only the third time since she sat down. During the first, he had jerked upright and glanced around in surprise, as if he had forgotten where he was and why. A moment later, satisfied that he hadn’t missed an important announcement, he drifted back to sleep, allowing her time to take in his appearance. He looked to be in his late twenties, and relatively smartly dressed. His blond hair was cropped close to his scalp – but it was the way that his long lashes contrasted against the dark circles beneath his eyes that really caught her attention.

 

An announcement over the public address system woke him the second time, and his gaze had briefly locked with hers as they listened to the polite but decidedly unhelpful message. _We sincerely apologize for the disruption to our services here at Heathrow Airport. This is due to a volcanic eruption in Iceland. The subsequent ash cloud that was released presents an extremely serious safety concern to all aircraft in the vicinity. We are closely monitoring the situation and hope to give an update on weather patterns shortly that may dictate how soon air space will reopen._

 

“You’d think it was the first time this has happened.”

 

She had turned to the man sitting beside her and smiled politely. She vaguely remembers the headlines about the disruption in 2010, but had been too busy with the final throes of grad school to pay much attention. He doesn’t seem to want a reply though, smiling back at her before closing his eyes once more and slumping further into the bench.

 

Now, he yawns widely into his palm before sitting upright and arching his back. “Any news?”

 

Katniss looks up and shakes her head.

 

She’s about to return her attention to the book in her hand when he speaks again. “So is the outbound or return leg of your journey?”

 

“Return.”

 

He nods. “Me too. I’m Peeta,” he offers, along with an extended hand.

 

She hesitates a moment before taking it. “Katniss.”

 

It seems to encourage him, and he turns his body to face her. “So, first time in London?”

 

Glancing down at her book, she debates putting it away entirely before answering. From the corner of her eye, she sees Peeta hold his hand up immediately in apology.

 

“I’m sorry, I’m disturbing you. I’ll let you get back to your book.”

 

He gets to his feet before she has a chance to protest. “Would you mind keeping an eye on my bags while I go find some water?”

 

“Sure,” is the only word she can manage.

 

When he returns, the speaker system is springing to life once more. _Ladies and gentlemen, once again, we apologize for the disruption to services in and out of Heathrow Airport this evening. It has been confirmed that the air space above western Europe will remain closed until tomorrow morning. As a gesture of goodwill, vouchers are available to cover a portion of the cost for available rooms at local hotels on a first come, first served basis. Please make your way to your respective check-in desks for further information._

 

Katniss gets to her feet immediately, joining the throng of people amassing at the Delta desk. It isn’t until she is near the front of the queue that a familiar voice speaks into her ear.

 

“Do you know which hotel this is for?”

 

She turns her head to look into eyes that are startlingly blue now that they’re so close. “No idea,” she murmurs. “I don’t really care – I just want to sleep in an actual bed tonight.”

 

He laughs, and she tries not to shiver at the unexpected puff of air that brushes the side of her neck. “Yeah, me too, I guess.”

 

When it’s her turn to step up to the desk, she holds her hand out eagerly, only faltering when the attendant smiles widely and tells her that she’s lucky to get the last one. Stepping away, she glances back guiltily as the airline staff proceed to inform the remaining passengers that they will have to pay the full price – _if_ there are any rooms left.

 

Peeta makes his way to her, and she half-expects a sarcastic comment when his gaze drops to the little piece of paper in her hand. But instead he smiles softly. “Glad one of us will get a decent night’s sleep.”

 

“You could try your luck,” she blurts out, surprised by his sincerity. His eyes widen, and she rushes to explain herself. “They might still have a room available, and the airline may reimburse you later.”

 

He shrugs. “I guess there’s no harm, and my company should be able to pay for it if Delta won’t. I could always come back and claim my bench over there if there isn’t any room.”

 

The hotel that she has been given a voucher for turns out to be within walking distance from the terminal, and they join the procession that is already making its way there.

 

“It _is_ my first time in London,” she says after a few strides, recalling his earlier question. “How about you?”

 

“No, this is my sixth time here, I think. My older brother has lived here for a couple of years and I’ve had to take business trips before. Have you been here for long?”

 

She shakes her head. “Just a short working trip.”

 

“Same – though I managed to squeeze in dinner with my brother last night. Ironically, I had told him that I wished I was staying longer. But,” he says with a dry laugh, “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind.”

 

“Couldn’t you stay with him tonight?” she asks, curious. 

 

“I _could_ ,” he concedes. “But it takes a couple of hours to get to where he lives, and I’d rather stay nearby in case there’s an update. After all, we’ll all be shoving each other out of the way to get on already booked flights once everything gets moving again. I don’t mind those plastic benches if it means I get home a day earlier.”

 

She would probably do the same if she’s honest.

 

When they reach the hotel, he hangs back and lets her make the arrangements for her room before approaching the front desk and asking if they have any availability. The manager shakes his head regretfully, informing Peeta that they’re fully booked.

 

He glances in her direction; all she has to offer is a sympathetic smile. “Worth a try,” he says with shrug as he approaches. “Well, Katniss, it was nice to meet you.”

 

“You too,” she murmurs as the lit-up sign behind his ear catches her eye. “Look, seeing as I’m now a guest here, we could spend some time in the hotel café, right?”

 

He turns to follow her gaze before grinning. “Sure.”

 

She insists on paying for his coffee to assuage her guilt at getting not only the last voucher, but also the last available room. While he waits for their drinks, she takes her bags up to her room, dropping her carry-on onto the nearest bed before returning.

 

He greets her with such a warm smile that she can’t help but return it. Ignoring the fluttering in her stomach, she slides into the soft armchair, which feels positively luxurious after the starkness of the terminal’s seating arrangements.

 

“It’s a twin room,” she admits shyly. He doesn’t seem to understand the implication, and she steels her resolve, forcing the next words out. “Two separate beds. If you want to stay, you could have one.”

 

He raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Are you sure? I mean, you don’t know me.”

 

It’s true, she doesn’t. The thought of inviting a complete stranger to share her hotel room should horrify her. She shrugs, feigning indifference. “I’m sure I could fashion a suitable weapon to keep by my bedside, should you try your hand at a little attempted murder during the night.”

 

He grins. “I’m sure you could,” he says frankly. “But you won’t need to.”

 

“I bet that’s what all prospective murderers say,” she comments before taking a sip of her coffee.

 

“Okay. Well, what if we get to know each other first?”

 

“How?”

 

“We could play a game,” he suggests. “How about Two Truths and a Lie? But with one stipulation – the lie has to have a truthful foundation.”

 

She nods. “That could work.”

 

“I’ll start,” he says with another wide smile. “My name is Peeta Mellark. I live in New York. I once wrestled a bear to the ground.”

 

“My name is Katniss Everdeen,” she responds. “I grew up in Philadelphia. I’m a direct descendant of Robin Hood.”

 

Peeta laughs. “I have no idea what the foundation to that lie would be.”

 

“I took up archery in college,” she reveals. “Even trialed with the regional team that went on to try out for the Olympics.”

 

“Impressive. I wrestled in college…but nowhere near Olympic level,” he adds.

 

Their game gets more difficult the longer they go on, but in the end she realizes that it doesn’t matter. Their coffees have long been consumed by the time she runs out of facts to reveal about herself. But she has to concede that his suggestion had been a good one – she feels far more comfortable in his company.

 

“Ready to head upstairs? They look like they want close up here.”

 

He glances around, suddenly becoming aware that they are the only customers left. “Are you sure about this?” he asks once more.

 

She nods. “But we should probably give your details to the hotel staff. You know, in case of emergency.”

 

“Right.”

 

She hovers behind him as they approach the front desk, embarrassed by the impression that the clerk must have about her as Peeta begins to explain that he will be staying in her room. But she only receives a kind smile when he relays the fact that she’ll be saving him from a night on the airport floor. He takes up the offer of a second key before gathering his bags and following her to the elevator.

 

Once inside, he takes note of her claim on the nearest bed and heads for the one by the window. She kicks off her boots before shuffling to the center of the mattress and sitting upright against the headboard. A moment later, Peeta mirrors her actions before tossing the TV controller onto her bed.

 

“Lady’s choice,” he says brightly.

 

She rolls her eyes, but takes up the offer regardless. She flicks through the channels until he asks her to stop on what looks like a cookery show. “The Great British Bake Off,” he explains with a chuckle. “I caught some of this last year. I think you’ll like it.”

 

It turns out that she does, and they spend an amicable hour watching several skilled (and some hapless) attempts at baking pastries and cakes, many of which she has never heard of. Peeta has though, confirming the foundation behind his ‘truth’ of growing up living above, and working at, his parents’ bakery.

 

When it ends, she reaches for her carry-on luggage before getting to her feet.

 

“I’m just going to change,” she explains.

 

He nods, reaching for the TV controller to mute the sound. “I should probably call my brother and let him know what’s happening.”

 

She leaves him there and retreats to the adjoining bathroom, changing quickly before reaching into her washbag for a toothbrush.

 

When she emerges, he is still clutching the phone to his ear. The bathroom door swings shut with a bang behind her, and she winces apologetically in his direction.

 

She can just make out a tinny voice emanating from cell phone as she tidies her belongings. _Peet, is somebody else there?_

 

“Yeah, I’m sharing a room with another passenger. The hotel only had one left.”

 

She hears a deep chuckle, but can’t make out the words that accompany it. She doesn’t, however, miss Peeta’s embarrassment when his eyes flick to meet hers before dropping to the floor. “It’s not like that, Rye. Look, I’ve gotta go. I’ll call with an update tomorrow.”

 

She manages to catch Rye’s parting words as Peeta fumbles with the screen to end the call. _Don’t do anything I wouldn’t –_

 

“Sorry. That was my brother,” he explains sheepishly as he tosses the smartphone onto his bed. “He’s always said that I’m unlucky, and found the whole situation pretty hilarious when I told him.”

 

Katniss only offers up a brief smile before slipping under the covers of her bed. She busies herself with her own phone, typing a message to Prim to update her on the situation, as Peeta rummages through his bag for sleep clothes. He follows her example, withdrawing to the bathroom to change.

 

When he emerges, she has the covers tucked under her chin. He takes the hint, switching off the lights before climbing into his own bed.

 

“Goodnight,” he says cheerfully.

 

“’Night.”

 

She stays awake for far longer than he does, listening to the sounds of his rhythmic breathing – and ruing the lack of noise that would ordinarily stem from the airport terminal. The last thing that she remembers as sleep begins to take her is trying to work out how long it’s been since she has shared a room with anybody other than Prim.

 

Beneath her eyelids, a man has his back to her, the dark mane of hair glistening in the midday sun. He lifts himself up onto a ladder as her focus widens to take in the situation. A construction site. Plumes of dust and noise and sparks from machinery begin to fill her senses.

 

And then a scream. It’s hers. It’s always hers. 

 

She says his name, over and over again, but the man is already flying through the air, plummeting to the ground.

 

She becomes aware of somebody trying to shake her. But this is normal in her dreams, and she dismisses the feeling until an urgent voice begins to call her name.

 

“Katniss, wake up. _Please_.”

 

Her other senses soon awaken, and she is suddenly aware of the proximity of another body. Not Prim’s, not even Gale’s or Johanna’s. _Where am I?_

 

And then there is the hot breath that blows wisps of hair from her forehead, and the rough fingertips that travel across her cheek.

 

“Katniss?”

 

She finally opens her eyes, almost afraid of what will greet her. She’s sat upright, on a bed. In the dark, she can make out a body – definitely a male body – sat facing her. Realization comes to her in waves. _London. Heathrow. Peeta._

 

“I’m okay,” she mumbles.

 

“You were having a nightmare,” he informs her, slowly moving the hand that had been caressing her jaw to a less intimate resting place on her shoulder. His other hand, however, remains at the small of her back, leaving her surrounded by his touch.

 

“Do you get them a lot?”

 

She closes her eyes as she nods, not wanting to see the pity that usually greets her when she tells people this story. “My father died in an accident at work when I was just a kid. I was too young to be told exactly what happened, but I overheard one of his colleagues telling my mom all the gory details. My mind conjured up the images when I went to bed that night, and they’ve stayed with me ever since.”

 

The hand that rests on her back presses fractionally tighter in a gesture of comfort. “I’m sorry.”

 

“Can I get you anything?” he asks a moment later. “Some water, or tea? Something stronger?”

 

She shakes her head. “I’ll be okay.”

 

He doesn’t seem convinced, but nods in acceptance. “Well, I’m only in the next bed if you need me.”

 

Even in the dark, she can make out the gleam of his eyes. “Thanks,” she whispers.

 

They must sleep without any further interruption, because sunlight streams in through the gap in the drapes when she next opens her eyes. The adjacent bed is empty and she can hear the sound of a running tap coming from the bathroom.

 

Katniss scrambles out of the bed, recognizing the opportunity to change into her clothes while she has the room to herself. But she has barely lifted her top above her head when she hears the click of the lock. _Oh no._

 

She clutches the fabric to her chest as Peeta emerges from the bathroom, oblivious to her predicament. She knows the moment that he sees her, because even from across the room she can see his eyes widen before he turns quickly on his heel. “I’m so sorry.”

 

“It’s my fault,” she mutters as she grabs the shirt that she had been wearing yesterday from the back of the armchair and slips it on. “I thought you were going to be in there longer. I should’ve just waited for you to finish.”

 

She doesn’t bother changing her pants, simply scooping up her washbag and the rest of her clothing before brushing past him and into the bathroom. She waits for the lock to click shut before resting her head against the door and sighing. _Smooth, Katniss. Real smooth_.

 

By the time she has finished changing and brushed her teeth, Peeta is gone. His bags are stood neatly by the door however, so she can only assume he will return. She’s busy trying to squeeze her washbag back into her suitcase when he slips into the room.

 

“Hey. Good news – the desk manager says that a limited number of flights have resumed. So we should probably make our way back to the terminal and see if we can get onto the next one to JFK. Unless you wanna get some breakfast here?”

 

Katniss shakes her head. “Let’s find out what the situation with Delta is first. We can always grab something at the terminal.”

 

He smiles at her use of the word ‘we’, and she bites her lip. “If you want to, that is.”

 

“I’d love to,” he responds, with that same smile that had her stomach fluttering the previous night. It has the same effect now, and she turns her attention back to her bags in an attempt at distraction.

 

As they emerge from the hotel, she risks a glance in his direction, thinking back to her awkward initiation of a conversation during the reverse walk the previous evening.

 

He catches her watching him. “I know I’ve said it already, but thank you so much for letting me stay with you.”

 

“You’re welcome,” she says sincerely. “But if there’s only one seat left on the plane,” she warns, only half-joking, “Don’t expect the same treatment.”

 

He laughs. “And don’t expect it from me, either.”

 

When they arrive at the terminal and she reads Prim’s response to her message asking her if she’s going crazy yet, she glances across at Peeta. She has to admit that the experience was much less of an ordeal that she had expected it to be.

 

 


End file.
